


Missing

by warriorofculture



Category: SpongeBob SquarePants (Cartoon)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:55:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25431244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warriorofculture/pseuds/warriorofculture
Summary: Something was missing... something very, very important was missing
Relationships: SpongeBob SquarePants/Squidward Tentacles
Comments: 18
Kudos: 71





	1. Act I

His alarm clock rang, the racket rousing him out of his sleep. He pressed the button to silence the alarm before sitting up in bed and yawning. It was another quiet, peaceful morning, and he smiled to himself as he stood and headed for the bathroom.

After showering and dressing for the day, he prepared a pot of coffee and grabbed a pastry from the cupboard. He wasn’t too fond of pre-made pastries, but it was a great time-saving meal in the morning. As the coffee brewed, he opened the front door and picked up the newspaper lying at his feet. He glanced to his left and spotted his garden, which was a short distance from his house. The flowers were arranged in a circle with a small path running through the middle. At the centre rested a stone fountain he’d sculpted himself, and the sound of softly trickling water reached his ears. No matter how good or bad of a day he might have, the beauty and tranquillity of his garden always calmed him.

“Hey, Squidward!”

He turned to his right and saw a pink starfish emerging from beneath his rock. “Hey, Patrick,” he greeted. “I’m surprised you’re up this early.”

“Yeah, well, I wanted to talk to you before you went to work.”

“Really?” Squidward raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. I’m supposed to tell you… uhh…” Patrick frowned in concentration. “Oh! Sandy wanted to know if you and I can go to her treedome tomorrow after work. Uh, your work.”

Squidward was puzzled. “Why didn’t she ask me?”

“I dunno, but her phone call was what woke me up.” Patrick gave a big yawn. “I’m gonna go back to bed, have fun at work.”

Squidward scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Right, working for Krabs is _so_ much fun. I’ll see you there later for lunch.”

“See ya then, buddy!” Patrick waved before hopping under his rock.

Squidward turned away from the door and closed it behind him. He’d lost a few minutes talking to Patrick, but there was still enough time to eat before he had to leave. He poured himself a cup of coffee and drank it whilst munching on the pastry and looking over the newspaper. As usual, there was nothing major or exciting going on in Bikini Bottom; everything was completely normal. It was almost boring, really.

He let out a sigh as he left the paper on the counter and grabbed his work uniform: the Krusty Krew hat. He set it on his head and headed out the door, locking it behind him. Ordinarily, he’d be in a better mood, but for some reason, his usual spirit was gone. Perhaps he’d spend some time in his garden after work to settle his mind.

About ten minutes later at the Krusty Krab, Squidward stood at the register boat, gazing out at the empty dining area. It wasn’t quite time for the restaurant to open, but he knew it was a matter of minutes before his boss came out to switch the “closed” sign to “open”.

“Morning, Squidward,” a voice drifted from behind him.

He turned to the order window and peered into the kitchen. A light blue fish stood beside the grill, setting up the condiments. “Morning, Frank,” Squidward replied. “Have you been settling into the job okay?”

“I guess.” Frank shrugged. “I know it’s only my third day, but man, I dunno how much more of old man Krabs I can take.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Squidward assured him. “Mr Krabs can be… difficult at times, but you can’t let it get to you.”

Frank shook his head. “I’ll never understand how you can stand working here for so many years.”

“It wasn’t too bad when Jim was here, but I think that’s why Mr Krabs has been meaner to everyone. He didn’t want Jim to leave, since no one could make a Krabby Patty like he could. But Jim wanted better pay and knew he’d never get it here. Ever since then, sales have gone down and made it easier for the Chum Bucket to become a serious competitor.”

“Wow, really?” Frank looked surprised. “I always wondered how Mr Plankton became successful, especially when it’s been pretty recent.”

Squidward nodded. “It’s because he made his move after Jim left. Mr Plankton knew Jim was the heart of the Krusty Krab and knew the place would suffer once he left. He spent time refining his chum recipes and marketed them well after the Krusty Krab’s sales dropped.”

“Do you think Jim will ever come back?” Frank’s tone was hopeful.

“He left five years ago,” Squidward pointed out. “Mr Krabs will never pay him more than minimum wage, and apparently he’s found a job that pays him better. We’re just going to have to deal with—”

“Look alive, lads!” Mr Krabs exited his office and headed for the front door. “I have a good feelin’ about today; we’re gonna get more customers than Plankton this time.”

Squidward turned to face his boss. “We haven’t done that in a week, Mr Krabs. What makes you think it’ll happen today?”

“Just me gut feelin’.” Mr Krabs flipped the sign in the window and unlocked the door. “Just make sure ye and Frank are prepared for all the customers we’ll be gettin’ today.”

“Right.” Squidward sat back in the register boat. “Let me know when that happens.”

* * *

Mr Krabs gave a sad sigh as he turned the sign to “closed”. “I don’t understand,” he muttered. “Me gut instinct is never wrong.”

“You’ve been saying the same thing every day, ever since Mr Plankton first beat you on customer numbers,” Squidward said. “It’s easy to be wrong when you keep saying it all the time.”

“Aye, but I really had a good feelin’ about it today.” Mr Krabs sighed again as he trudged towards the register boat. “Well, there’s nothin’ we can do. See ye in the mornin’, Mr Squidward.”

“See you.” He left the restaurant, certain that when he returned, they’d be down a fry cook again. Frank had never seemed pleased with the job, and Mr Krabs was on his case most of the day about his lacklustre Patties. It wasn’t Frank’s fault, of course; no one had the spirit or talent Jim did when it came to making Krabby Patties. Out of all the fry cooks they’d had in the five years since Jim’s departure, not even one of them could make the burgers taste anywhere near what was now being called a “Jim Patty”.

When Squidward arrived at his house, he took a detour to the right and walked over to his garden. The aroma of the flowers was pleasant but not overpowering, and he smiled to himself as he made his way to the centre. Once he spotted his fountain, he sat on the edge and let his thoughts wander.

The first thing that came to mind was his conversation with Patrick from that morning: Sandy had invited him and Patrick to her treedome the following evening. It was odd for her to want her two friends to visit so late in the day, even on a Saturday, so there must be some reason for the invitation.

Of course.

Squidward’s birthday was on Tuesday.

Sandy likely wanted to discuss plans to celebrate his birthday, but also wanted to surprise him with news of the upcoming celebration. Personally, he found the whole thing ridiculous; after all, birthday parties were for kids, and he’d never made a fuss about his birthday in the past. He’d been friends with Sandy for a couple of years, not long after she moved into her treedome, and she’d not held a party for his birthday before.

So why now?

He shook his head. He could also be jumping to conclusions; after all, he only knew a little of the land-dwelling squirrel from Texas, and it was entirely possible she had something else planned for him and Patrick. Sandy was a lover of science, and there was a chance it was related to that. She also knew karate – she’d taught both Squidward and Patrick the basics of self-defence – and there was almost as good a chance whatever she wanted to do was related to her interest in martial arts.

Since he was getting nowhere with his line of thought, Squidward directed his mind elsewhere. The water continued to trickle softly behind him, and he let his thoughts flow freely, just like the water cascading down the surface of the fountain’s sculpture. It was very relaxing; it almost felt as though his thoughts ran out of his head and floated away on its own current, guided along by the scent of the flowers about him.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. When he opened his eyes, he realised he was smiling, and knew his idea had worked. Anytime he wanted to relax in his garden, he took a few minutes to do so, and it always put him in a better mood.

He rose, feeling the stiffness in his legs, and stretched. It was time for a quick dinner, then off to bed. Perhaps he’d feel even better in the morning.

* * *

He gasped as his eyes flew open and he sat upright in bed. He looked around frantically, his gaze finally resting on the clock softly ticking on the nearby bedstand. The hands pointed to the time: 6:45am.

“Barnacles,” he muttered. “Fifteen minutes before the alarm.”

Knowing it was pointless to try to go back to sleep, he turned off the alarm and got out of bed. As he stretched, he tried to figure out why he’d awakened so suddenly. Something seemed… off. Regardless of what that “off” sensation was, he knew he needed to ready himself for work. Mr Krabs wouldn’t accept him showing up late, and he _did_ have a decent attendance record.

At work, he wasn’t surprised to find the kitchen vacant. Frank generally showed up around the same time as he, so the lack of the fish in the kitchen told Squidward his hunch was correct. It would be another day where he’d have to contend with his boss doing the cooking. Mr Krabs wasn’t _too_ bad at the grill – after all, he’d founded the Krusty Krab by himself – but Squidward knew Krabs loved to complain about the workload. Understandable, of course, since the crustacean was the owner and had grown used to sitting behind a desk, not standing behind a grill. However, since Mr Krabs was too cheap to hire any more employees aside from one cashier and one fry cook, he’d find himself in such a predicament if either one decided to quit.

Squidward sighed just as he spotted his boss leaving his office. Sure enough, a “Help Wanted” sign was tucked under Mr Krabs’ arm, and he hung it in the window before flipping the “closed” sign to “open”.

“Looks like another long day with just the two of us, eh, Mr Squidward?” Mr Krabs forced a smile as he headed for the kitchen.

“Frank quit, did he?”

“Aye, he did. I can’t imagine why he would since this be a great place to work ‘n all.”

Squidward tried not to laugh. Krabs himself was the reason why Frank had decided not to return after only a few days. “Uh, well, I’m sure you’ll find someone else. There are plenty of fish out there who’re looking for a job.”

“I sure hope so, Mr Squidward.” Mr Krabs trudged into the kitchen; after a minute or two, noises could be heard as the crustacean set up his workstation for the day.

Squidward, meanwhile, gazed at the front door. If he squinted, he could make out some people already heading for the Chum Bucket across the street. He never figured out why or how anyone could stomach the swill served at that place; chum was disgusting, no matter how it was cooked or served. All the same, he never understood why they’d want to eat at the Krusty Krab, either, considering their primary fare was comprised of greasy hamburgers and deep-fried starches and carbohydrates.

Setting those thoughts aside, he realised something still felt off. At first, he’d chalked it up to his dream, whatever it may have been, but the sensation was still there. It just didn’t feel right… but _what_ didn’t feel right? He didn’t like having unanswered questions, but the fact that something was missing just wasn’t sitting well with him.

That was it.

Something was missing.

Something very, very important was missing.

He shook his head in frustration. “Impossible,” he muttered under his breath. “Nothing is missing.”

Regardless, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing.

* * *

Mr Krabs turned the sign to “closed”. “Yet another slow day,” he reported sadly. “Meanwhile, me biggest competitor is enjoyin’ bigger profits.”

Squidward shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe Monday will be better.”

Mr Krabs regarded him for a moment. “Ye think so?”

“There’s always tomorrow, Mr Krabs. As long as the sun keeps rising each morning, there’ll be another chance for sales to go back up.” He paused. “And there will always be a fry cook to try to do just as good as Jim, if not better.”

Mr Krabs gave a weak laugh. “Right… someone better ‘n Jim. That’ll be the day.” He shook his head. “I’ll see ye Monday mornin’, Mr Squidward.”

Squidward stepped out of the register boat. “Goodnight, Mr Krabs.”

He left the Krusty Krab, putting work-related thoughts out of his mind as he headed opposite his usual route home. He pulled his hat off and kept it in his hand as he kept going towards a place he tended to frequent. It was a bit out of the ordinary for him to go there after work, but this visit had been arranged in advance.

“Hey, Squidward!”

He paused as he heard footsteps approaching from behind. “Running a little late, aren’t we, Patrick?” he asked, not turning around.

“Sorry,” Patrick panted as he caught up. “I lost track of time.”

“You should’ve waited outside the Krusty Krab just before it closed. That way, you wouldn’t have to worry about being late.”

“Why can’t I wait inside?”

“You know how Krabs is about that.” Squidward resumed walking, with Patrick keeping pace. “No one’s allowed inside unless they’re buying something.”

“Oh, yeah.” Patrick looked downcast. “I wouldn’t mind buying a Krabby Patty, but they’re just not as good as they used to be.”

“I know,” Squidward agreed. “I’ve had to hear that from all the customers ever since Jim left. Mr Plankton’s Chum Burgers aren’t any better, either.”

“I wish Jim would come back.” Patrick sighed. “He made the best Krabby Patties in the sea.”

“Wishing won’t bring him back, you know.”

“Yeah, but it sure is nice to think about.”

The two lapsed into silence for the remainder of the walk. Squidward’s mind drifted to the uneasy feeling he’d had that morning. He’d tried to forget about it whilst working, but since he didn’t have anything to distract his thoughts, the sensation returned. At this point, he knew he couldn’t pass it off as whatever dream he’d had the previous night. Something was seriously wrong, but all he could chalk it up to was the feeling that someone very important was missing.

_Someone?_

Was that what he’d felt? But who could be missing?

He had his friends, and he still worked for Mr Krabs at the Krusty Krab. Jim was on good terms with him before the former had quit, but that was five years ago. The customers were still the same. Mr Plankton still owned the Chum Bucket, as well as a considerable portion of the fast food industry. Everything was as normal as it could be, and no one he knew was missing.

So who was this very important person?

“Hey, look, there’s Sandy’s treedome!” Patrick’s voice broke into his thoughts.

“We’d better not keep her waiting any longer.” Squidward put his questions out of his mind and accelerated his pace.

Once they reached the treedome, Patrick opened the first door before he and Squidward entered. They took a moment to put on their water helmets – Squidward set his hat on the ground where his helmet had been – and Patrick pressed the button for the doorbell.

“Hold on a minute, fellas,” Sandy’s southern-accented voice came through a speaker.

A moment later, the water began to drain. Squidward watched the top of the water as it ran even at his line of sight, then lowered his head as the water gradually lessened, emptying into a drain at his feet. He was thankful for the water helmet, which allowed him to continue breathing properly in Sandy’s native environment.

“C’mon in,” Sandy announced through the speaker.

This time, Squidward opened the door, and he and Patrick stepped inside the treedome. The surroundings, though foreign, had become familiar to Squidward since he had visited his friend regularly. A large oak tree stood in the centre of the treedome, and a picnic table rested nearby. A short distance away, he could see the giant metal running wheel Sandy used to exercise. Soft green grass covered the entire ground; whilst it wasn’t the sand floor he was used to, Squidward had to admit the grass felt good under his feet, if occasionally a bit itchy. The treedome was filled with oxygen, which was what Sandy needed to breathe, and why he and Patrick wore water helmets.

An instant after they entered, a squirrel wearing a purple bikini emerged from the tree. “Howdy, boys!” she greeted, waving.

“Hey, Sandy!” Patrick waved at his friend.

“Hi.” Squidward held up a hand in greeting.

“C’mon over to the table.” Sandy gestured to the picnic table.

As the three sat, Sandy regarded her friends. “Y’all know why we’re here tonight, right?”

“Uhh…” Patrick’s expression went blank.

“No,” Squidward said.

“I’m goin’ outta town tomorrow evenin’ for a convention in Texas and won’t be back till Friday.” Sandy nodded to Squidward, who sat beside her. “Y’all gotta birthday on Tuesday and I wanna do somethin’ to celebrate before I go.”

“You know you don’t have to do anything for my birthday, Sandy; I’m not a little kid.”

“No, but y’all are our friend, and we wanna do somethin’ to celebrate.”

“Won’t it be a day early, though?” Squidward pointed out.

“Yeah, but I’d rather it be early than late.”

“Fine.” Squidward blew out a sigh. “I know you’re going to do something no matter what I say, anyway.”

“Great!” Sandy grinned at him. “I knew ya would understand. Now, let’s see what we can do…” She trailed off thoughtfully.

“I know!” Patrick spoke up. “Let’s go to the comic book shoppe and get the newest issue of _Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy_!”

“That’s _your_ favourite comic, Patrick,” Squidward replied. “I’m not a fan of comics.”

“Darn.” Patrick frowned. “I thought I had something good there…”

As his friends bounced ideas off each other, Squidward let his thoughts wander again. It was still peculiar how he kept feeling as though someone was missing, despite knowing no one was missing. Even more concerning was the fact that it felt as though the person was particularly important, perhaps like a friend he’d known for a long time. But that also couldn’t be right, since his only friends were Patrick and Sandy.

_And…_

He stiffened. “And”? He only had two friends; where did that “and” come from? Who could be so important to him that he’d be in such a state, and made him feel empty?

_Empty?_

Why were all these strange questions and feelings coming over him? He couldn’t think of anyone that important to him that he didn’t already know, so why this? Why now?

“Squidward?”

He’d lived his life as normally as possible all this time, and he’d know if someone important to him was gone. So why did he feel this way? Who in the world was that important to him?

A hand rested on his shoulder, and he yelped in surprise.

“Sorry, Squidward.” Sandy withdrew her hand. “I know y’all don’t like a lot of contact, but ya were so lost in thought, I had to get your attention somehow.”

Squidward shook his head. “I- It’s okay, Sandy. I was just… thinking.”

“What about?”

He hesitated. Although Sandy was his friend, he struggled to open up to her. It was hard for him to open up to anyone, really. Patrick and Sandy were good people, but something kept him from letting them get too close. That fact alone made it even more strange that he had the feeling there was someone very important to him who was missing.

“Y’all can tell me what’s goin’ on,” Sandy continued when she realised Squidward wasn’t answering. “We can keep it between the three of us, ya know that.”

Squidward took a deep breath and slowly let it out. He really should let his friends get closer to him; there was no sense in creating a barrier. “Well… I’ve had this odd feeling ever since I woke up this morning.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, I… It feels as though someone is missing.”

“Missin’?” Sandy hiked an eyebrow.

“I can’t figure out who it could be,” Squidward explained. “Whoever this person is, I feel like they must be especially important to me. B- But I don’t know who that could be; anyone I know who’s of any importance to me isn’t missing.”

“Hmm.” Sandy grew thoughtful. “Now that ya mention it, there does seem to be somethin’ missin’. It’s like…” She fought for the right words. “It’s like there should be four of us.”

Patrick gazed at his friends, then looked around. “But hasn’t it always just been the three of us?”

“Yeah, that’s what’s weird.” Sandy narrowed her eyes as she thought. “But I get the feelin’ we’ve been missin’ a person.” She gestured to the space beside Patrick; the sea star sat alone on his side of the table. “Someone should be there.”

“But who?” Squidward asked. “Is the person that important?”

“I dunno,” Sandy conceded, “but for some reason, I’m gettin’ the feelin’, too.”

“Does the missing person feel important to you?”

“I can’t really tell, but I do know there’s supposed to be someone else here.” Sandy frowned. “This is all right strange, Squidward. Y’all know I’m all about science ‘n hard facts, but this… I just can’t explain it.” She shook her head. “I don’t like how it’s down to feelin’s ‘n instincts; I need solid answers.”

“What do you suggest we do?”

“Hmm… well, I’m supposed to be leavin’ tomorrow, but I can’t just walk away from this mystery, especially when I ain’t got a scientific answer.” She rested her arms on the table and leaned forward. “I’m gonna stay here until we get this thing solved. The conference can wait; in fact, if I can find the answer, I might have a great presentation to show at the next conference.”

Squidward glanced across the table at his other friend. “Patrick, do you have the same feeling we do? There should be four of us here, right?”

Patrick looked thoughtful. “Uhh… I thought it was just us three.”

“Yes, but doesn’t it feel like someone’s missing?”

The sea star’s brow creased with concentration. “Hmm… it _does_ feel like someone should also be here.” He turned to his right, where the bench was vacant. “Someone right here. But… But that’s not right, is it?” He turned back to Squidward. “It’s always been you, me and Sandy.”

Squidward nodded. “That’s what makes this whole thing a mystery, as there never has been a fourth person. Yet we’re all getting the feeling there _should_ be a fourth person here.”

“Wonder why we all have that feelin’, anyway?” Sandy asked. “It’s one thing for just one of us to feel that way, but _all_ of us think there should be another person here.”

“And why am I the only one who feels as though the person is very important?” Squidward added.

“Hmm… if we all think a person’s missin’, maybe others think that way, too,” Sandy mused. “Somethin’ tells me it ain’t limited to just the three of us. Maybe we should ask around town if others feel the same way; it might lead us to some answers as well.”

“So much for my birthday,” Squidward grumbled under his breath.

“We can celebrate your birthday, too,” Sandy assured him. “We ain’t gonna forget about that.”

“I don’t think it’s much of a birthday when we’re all caught up in this mystery,” Squidward pointed out. “It’ll be hard to want to celebrate when this missing person is on our minds.”

“Y’all gotta point there.” Sandy sighed. “I hate to say it, but ya might wanna postpone the celebratin’ till we figure this out.”

“If we can find out who this person is, and why they’re so important, I think that’s enough of a birthday gift for me,” Squidward stated.

“Let’s wait till then before we go decidin’ what to do about your birthday ‘n gifts ‘n such. First things first, we need to figure out who we’re gonna ask about this missin’ person. Not everyone’s gonna think someone’s missin’, and not everyone’s gonna believe us when we’re not talkin’ about hard facts.”

“Good point.” Squidward grew thoughtful. “I could talk to Mr Krabs on Monday, though he may be preoccupied with interviews.”

“Interviews?” Sandy gave him a confused look.

“Frank quit today,” Squidward explained. “He was very unhappy with the job.”

“How many fry cooks has that been since Jim left?”

“More than I can begin to count.” Squidward sighed. “But that’s beside the point.”

“You’re right.” Sandy nodded. “Y’all can still talk to Mr Krabs on Monday, but we’ve got an entire day to ask others in the meantime.”

“What about Mr Plankton?” Patrick asked. “Isn’t the Chum Bucket open on Sunday?”

“Yeah, we can ask him,” Sandy agreed. “And maybe Mrs Puff down at the boatin’ school, too.”

“Why?” Squidward asked.

“I dunno, I just think we could ask her.” Sandy shrugged.

“Hmm… what about Goo Lagoon?” Squidward suggested.

“Yeah!” Sandy grinned. “And we can check at Barg’n Mart, and—”

“Jellyfish Fields!” Patrick added.

Sandy and Squidward stared at him. “There are only jellyfish at Jellyfish Fields,” the latter pointed out. “What good will that do?”

“Oh.” Patrick’s excited look fell. “I dunno, I just thought of it.”

“That’s odd.” Squidward regarded his friend. “Maybe it has something to do with the missing person?”

“Why would they bother with Jellyfish Fields?” Sandy pointed out. “Like ya said, there ain’t nothin’ there but the jellyfish.”

“Maybe they wanted to study jellyfish?” Squidward guessed. “They could be a scientist who studies them, or…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “No, something tells me that’s not right.”

“Who knows? For now, we gotta list of people to ask about this missin’ person.” Sandy paused. “There’s the Chum Bucket, Mrs Puff’s boatin’ school, Goo Lagoon and Barg’n Mart. And Mr Krabs on Monday. Hopefully by the end of Monday, we’ll have some answers, or at least some good leads.”

“What if we don’t?” Squidward asked.

“Let’s not worry ‘bout that till Monday evenin’. Ain’t no sense gettin’ all negative when we ain’t even started.” Sandy held out her hand towards the middle of the table. “So we’re good for tomorrow ‘n Monday?”

“Yeah!” Patrick laid his hand on top of hers.

Squidward hesitated. Despite their conversation, he still felt as though he was the only one who thought the missing person was of rather big importance. Whoever this person was, they must have been closer to him than Sandy or Patrick, but why? And who would he let get so close to him?

“Squidward?”

He spotted Sandy giving him a concerned look. “O- Oh, sorry.” He stretched out his arm and laid his tentacle on top of Patrick’s hand.

“Then it’s settled,” Sandy announced. “We’re workin’ together to solve this mystery!”


	2. Act II

He blew out a sigh. Of all places he could have spent his day off, and here he was, standing in line at the Chum Bucket. He was grateful the Krusty Krab was closed, otherwise he’d never hear the end of it from his boss. There was still the risk of being seen when he entered and eventually left, but he’d made sure he was careful when going in. Since the Chum Bucket had a steady stream of customers, there was little chance of being seen inside, either.

“Welcome to the Chum Bucket,” a bored-looking green fish said from behind the glass-shielded counter. “Can I take your order?”

“Ah, er… I- I was actually hoping to speak with Mr Plankton,” he replied nervously.

The cashier rolled his eyes. “No one talks to Mr Plankton without buying something first.”

“Oh, uh… could I just get a drink?”

“Yes, but you won’t be able to see Mr Plankton until you buy something with chum in it.”

“Oh.” He thought quickly. “Th- Then I’ll take a chum stick, please.”

The cashier tapped on the register’s screen. “One dollar.”

He set a dollar on the counter and slid it under the glass towards the cashier. The fish didn’t look up as he grabbed the money and placed it in the till. He turned around, picked up something from a chute behind him and set it in the drawer below the counter. The cashier pushed the drawer outwards, revealing a small, long box.

“Here you go,” the cashier said.

“Thanks.” He picked up the box, trying to ignore the greasy warmth coming from the bottom. “Can I see Mr Plankton now?”

“I guess.” The cashier pressed a button protruding from the wall. “He’ll be out in a minute.”

A moment later, the double doors leading to the kitchen swung open, and he spotted a tall, thin machine of some sort that rested on a set of wheels. The machine zipped across the dining area and screeched to a halt before him.

“Well, well, well,” a voice from the top of the machine said. “If it isn’t Squidward Tentacles, here in my own restaurant. Does Krabs know you’re here?”

Squidward peered at the top of the machine, where a tiny green creature stood on a small platform. He immediately recognised the one-eyed owner of the Chum Bucket. “No, he doesn’t know I’m here,” he replied.

“Good.” Plankton rubbed his hands together. “Does that mean you’re here for a job? I know Krabs’ business is circling the drain, so I don’t blame you for looking for another job.”

“That’s not why I’m here,” Squidward said.

“No?” Plankton nodded at the box in the octopus’ hand. “Then you’re here for my secret formula, is that it?”

“That’s not it, either. Your cashier made me order—” He glanced over his shoulder at the cashier, who no longer looked bored. Instead, he wore a big grin as he waved at his boss.

“Hi, Mr Plankton,” the cashier said. “I did what you wanted me to do.”

“What was that?” Plankton sounded confused.

“If a customer comes in here and doesn’t order anything, to have them order something before they leave.”

“Oh, right.” Plankton smiled. “Good job, Dan.”

“Thanks, boss!” Dan grinned again.

“Now.” Plankton turned to Squidward, who was mysteriously empty-handed. “H- Hey, where did your food go?”

“Who knows?” Squidward shrugged. “You were saying?”

Plankton shook his head. “What brings you here to the Chum Bucket?”

“I wanted to ask you about something,” Squidward replied. “Can we talk in private?”

Plankton sighed. “Fine. But you’ll have to order more chum before leaving.”

“Right, right.” Squidward waved his hand dismissively, already knowing he’d do no such thing. “Lead the way.”

Plankton steered his machine to take him back into the kitchen; Squidward followed. He decided not to look too closely at anything, for fear of what Plankton might do if he learnt about something he shouldn’t, as well as fear for what Mr Krabs might do if he found out Squidward was in the Chum Bucket. The less he knew about the goings-on of the Chum Bucket, the better.

Plankton led him to an office on the opposite side of the kitchen. Squidward entered and gazed around. It was small but efficient: a desk rested on one side, a computer and telephone sat on the desk, a few posters hung on the walls. What caught Squidward’s attention, however, was the larger flatscreen monitor mounted to the wall beside the desk.

“Have a seat.” Plankton gestured to the empty chair situated in front of the desk. Squidward decided not to ask about the monitor as he sat. Plankton hopped off the machine to stand on the desk. “Now, what is it you wanted to talk about? Do you really want to work here?”

“Of course not,” Squidward replied. “I wanted to ask you about something… unusual.”

“Oh?” Plankton looked interested.

“Have you ever had the feeling that something’s… missing?”

Plankton gaped at him.

“W- Well, to be more specific, some _one_. There may be someone missing, and my friends and I are trying to figure out who that person could be.”

“Why aren’t you trying to figure out _where_ the person is?”

“Er, well… because we don’t know who we’re even looking for.”

Plankton smacked a hand against his head. “So you wanted to talk to me in private to help you look for someone who may be missing, but you don’t even know who they are? That doesn’t even make sense.”

“I’m not asking you to help us look for them, only if you have the feeling that someone’s missing.”

“And that makes even less sense! I thought you were smarter than that, Squidward; why, you’re no better than… than…” He trailed off, looking uncertain.

“Than?” Squidward raised an eyebrow.

Plankton blinked a few times, then looked at his hands. “Wh… What…” His gaze snapped up to the monitor. “Karen!”

The large monitor blinked on, showing a solid green line running across the middle. “What is it, Sheldon?” The line zigzagged as a female voice spoke.

“Run a diagnostic on the Chum Bucket,” Plankton commanded. “Make sure everything and everyone inside is checked.”

“Including the customers?”

“Yes, including them.”

“ _And_ you?”

“Yes, yes, even me.” He glared across the desk. “And especially the octopus in the room with me.”

“It’ll take a few minutes,” Karen replied.

“Fine, just do it!” He kept his gaze on Squidward. “Now, what’s all this about a missing person?”

“Like I said,” Squidward answered, “my friends and I are sure someone is missing, but we can’t figure out who it is. They’re probably a friend of ours, but it’s always just been the three of us: me, Sandy and Patrick.”

Plankton’s sole eye widened. “And…”

“And?”

The Chum Bucket owner’s hands slowly rose to cover his mouth. “There’s someone else, isn’t there?” he murmured through his hands.

Squidward nodded. “That’s what I’m talking about. There’s supposed to be someone else here, someone who’s friends with me, Sandy and Patrick, but we can’t figure out who that person is.” He paused, taking in Plankton’s shocked look. “Apparently, you’ve realised the same thing, haven’t you?”

Plankton dropped his hands to his sides. “I- I- I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“But you just said—”

“I didn’t say anything. Why are you wasting my time, anyway?”

“Scan complete,” Karen reported.

Plankton turned his attention to the monitor. “And?”

“All scans have come back normal.”

“N- Normal?”

“That’s what I said, normal. There’s nothing wrong with the building, the employees, the customers, the food, you or the octopus in the room with you.”

Plankton lowered his gaze. “But then why…?”

“Why?” Karen’s tone was curious.

“Why do I feel like something’s missing?”

Squidward smiled triumphantly, but wisely kept quiet. He knew it was impossible for Plankton to deny the truth, especially when it was staring him in the face, so to speak.

“I don’t know, Sheldon,” Karen replied. “Everything is as it should be in the Chum Bucket. I can’t run scans on your feelings.”

Plankton sighed, then his gaze fell on Squidward. “You! This is all your fault!”

“Me?” Squidward’s smile dropped.

“Yes! If it hadn’t been for you coming in here and acting just like that… that…”

“That what?”

Plankton grumbled under his breath before replying, “I- I don’t know. Just… Just get out of here.” He turned away.

Squidward stood. “I’ll leave, but it sounds like you’ve realised there’s someone missing, just like my friends and I have discovered. I don’t know how important this person is, but if you find out anything, let me know. I’m at the Krusty Krab every day except Sunday.”

“Whatever.” Plankton crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m going to run more scans, and you can go.”

“Fine.” Squidward left the office. When he stepped into the dining area, he glanced around, seeing the usual full tables and line at the register. He didn’t see anyone looking in his direction, so he tried to look as nonchalant as possible as he strolled outside the restaurant. No one said a word as the doors swung closed behind him, and he let out his breath. He’d hoped nobody would make him order more chum before leaving; it was difficult enough to toss the chum stick in the trash whilst Plankton’s attention was diverted earlier.

He took a step forward.

* * *

Sandy knocked on the door of the boating school. She knew Mrs Puff normally didn’t hold classes on Sunday, but there was a chance she’d be in the building. It was easier checking there, anyway, since she didn’t know where the boating instructor lived.

Thankfully, the door swung open, revealing the pufferfish who ran the school. She gave Sandy a questioning look. “Can I help you, miss?”

“I sure hope so,” Sandy replied. “May I come in for a spell?”

“Of course.” Mrs Puff moved aside so Sandy could enter.

“First of all, I should introduce myself,” Sandy began. “I’m Sandy Cheeks, and I’m from Texas.”

“Texas?”

“It’s up on dry land.” Sandy pointed upwards. “But that’s beside the point. I was wantin’ to ask y’all somethin’.”

“What’s that?”

“Ya ever get the feelin’ that somethin’s missin’?”

“Missing?” Mrs Puff looked confused. “I’m afraid I don’t follow, Miss Cheeks.”

“Y’all can call me Sandy.”

“Alright, Sandy, but I still don’t understand what you mean.”

“I mean, do ya feel like someone’s missin’ from here? Like, there should be someone, but ain’t quite sure who they could be?”

“No, I’m sure I’d know if someone is missing.” Mrs Puff shook her head. “I see a lot of students here at my boating school, and if one of them doesn’t come to class, I personally check on them. You see, Sandy, that’s a big reason why my students enjoy coming here: I care about each and every one of them. I ensure they receive the highest standard of boating lessons, and as a result, they always pass my class. I have the best record amongst my fellow teachers as well; I’ve never had to fail any student. Even going back to when I first founded this school, I…” As her sentence trailed away, her eyes slowly widened.

“What’s wrong, ma’am?” Sandy asked, concerned.

“I- I… I’m not sure,” Mrs Puff admitted. “I just got this strange sensation that I _have_ had to fail a student before.”

“Really?” Now Sandy was interested.

“Yes, but… I know I have a perfect passing record.” She gestured to a plaque on the wall, which hung behind her desk. “I was recently given an award for outstanding teacher of the year in boating studies. But I’ve got this horrible feeling there’s been a student who’s failed the test… not jut once or twice, but more times than I can even begin to count.”

“Wow,” Sandy remarked. “That’s incredible ya have such an award, but who’s this student y’all keep thinkin’ of?”

“I don’t know.” Mrs Puff’s tone became pleading. “Sandy, you seem to know more about this than I do; who is this missing person? Are they the one who has failed my boating test?”

“I’ll be honest with ya, ma’am, I ain’t sure.” Sandy shrugged. “My friends ‘n I had this feelin’ someone was missin’ who was another friend of ours, but we only have the three of us. We decided to ask around and see if anyone else has the same feelin’, ‘n it looks like you’ve got it, too. This might be a clue as to who the missin’ person is: first, they’re a friend of mine ‘n Squidward ‘n Patrick, and now they might have gone to your boatin’ school ‘n failed a buncha times. Oh, and the person seems closest to Squidward.” Sandy grew thoughtful. “At least we’re gettin’ some bits of stuff to work with.”

“If you find this missing person, could you find out why they keep failing?” Mrs Puff asked.

“Of course!” Sandy smiled at her.

“I’d like to keep my perfect record, so it’s important I find out why they failed so I can try to teach them better.”

“That makes sense,” Sandy agreed. “I’ll let ya know soon as I find out who the missin’ person is. I also thank y’all for givin’ me a clue to work with.”

“Glad I could be of some help, Sandy.”

* * *

Patrick stood near the automatic-opening front doors of Barg’n Mart. He was familiar with the layout of the store since he shopped there regularly. On occasion, one or both of his friends would accompany him, but this time, he was alone. He tried to remember why he was there – he didn’t need to buy anything – and he frowned in thought. A few customers gave him a strange look as they entered or exited the store.

“Now I remember!” he declared after a minute or two. “I have to ask about that missing person.”

He made his way to the register, where the cashier was finishing up with a customer’s order. Once the customer left, the cashier turned his attention to Patrick. “Can I help you, sir?”

“Yes,” Patrick replied. “I’m looking for someone.”

“What do they look like?”

“Oh, uh… I dunno, but they’re missing.”

The cashier raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know what the missing person looks like?”

Patrick shook his head. “Nuh-uh. I’m trying to find them, along with my friends Sandy and Squidward.”

“That’s nice.” Despite the words, the cashier wasn’t impressed. “Why don’t you ask your friends about the missing person? Maybe they can help.”

“They’re looking for the person, too,” Patrick answered.

“And they don’t know what the person looks like, either.”

“Nope!” Patrick smiled.

The cashier sighed. “Sir, I think you’ll find it easier to locate your missing person if you know _who_ you’re looking for.”

“But I don’t know who I’m looking for,” Patrick protested.

“Oh, come on!” A customer behind Patrick yelled. “Some of us are in a hurry, and we need to check out!”

The starfish turned and spotted a line of customers waiting their turn. “Well, I’m trying to find someone,” he told the first customer. “You’ll just have to wait until I can find them.”

“Come on, bro.” Strong red pincers grabbed Patrick’s arms and lifted him up and away from the register before setting him down a few feet away. The first customer took advantage of the situation and pushed their cart to the register.

As soon as Patrick’s feet touched the ground, he spun around and found himself looking up at a large, muscular lobster. “Hey, Larry,” he greeted.

“Hey yourself,” Larry replied. “What’s this about a missing person?”

“Oh, uh… My friends and I are trying to find someone.”

“Yeah? What do they look like?”

Patrick shrugged. “I dunno.”

“Then how do you know they’re missing?”

“Uhh… I dunno.” Patrick scratched his head. “Sandy and Squidward were talking about it last night. There are three of us, but they were saying there are four of us.”

“Four?” Larry looked confused. “I thought it’s just been the three of you.”

“That’s what they were saying,” Patrick explained. “I don’t really get what they meant, though.”

“Then why are you helping them, dude?”

“Huh… That’s a good question.”

At that moment, the doors of Barg’n Mart opened, and Sandy stepped inside. She took a moment to glance around, then made her way to Patrick and Larry.

“Hey, Larry,” Sandy said, holding up a hand in greeting.

“Hi, Sandy.” Larry smiled at her. “Do you know what your friend here is talking about with a missing person?”

“Yeah, we’re tryin’ to figure out who’s missin’.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, ya ever get the feelin’ somethin’ is missin’? Like maybe a person should be here?”

“I don’t think I follow.”

Sandy shook her head. “It’s okay, I think I got somethin’ to work with anyway. C’mon Patrick, we gotta find Squidward.”

As Sandy took hold of Patrick’s hand and led him out of the store, Larry called after them, “Good luck with whatever it is you’re doing!”

“Thanks, Larry!” Sandy waved at him as she headed outside.

Once they were a short distance from the store, Sandy let go of Patrick’s hand and turned to face him. “Did y’all find out anythin’ inside?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Oh well, I think I got somethin’ when I talked to Mrs Puff.” Sandy grew thoughtful. “We know this person is a friend of ours, and apparently they go to the boatin’ school and have failed the test a buncha times.”

“Failed the boating test?” Patrick looked bewildered. “But it’s easy to pass the test.”

“I know, but whoever our friend is, they don’t seem to be too good at drivin’ a boat.”

“Wow, they must stink, huh?”

“We don’t know why they keep failin’, so maybe that’s somethin’ we can ask whenever we figure out who’s missin’ and find ‘em.” Sandy shrugged. “By the way, y’all seen Squidward recently?”

Patrick shook his head again. “I haven’t seen him since we split up earlier.”

“Maybe he’s bein’ held up at the Chum Bucket.” Sandy started walking, and Patrick followed. “I imagine it ain’t easy gettin’ a hold of Mr Plankton, especially if the place is real busy.”

* * *

Squidward gulped. He sat in an office, though this one was much more familiar than the one he’d just left. In front of him rested a large navy-coloured chest, and on the opposite side of the makeshift desk rested a red office chair, currently occupied by his boss.

Mr Krabs glared across the desk at him. “So… ye’ve spent many a year workin’ here at the Krusty Krab, and even stayed loyal to me after Jim left. I ain’t had a better cashier ‘n ye, Mr Squidward. But today, I find ye betrayin’ me trust, jumpin’ ship to me biggest enemy. Why?” Without waiting for an answer, he continued. “Because ye think I be a tyrant, is that it? Ye think the Krusty Krab’s days be numbered, ‘n you want to mutiny and go to the enemy for job security, is that it?”

“No, Mr Krabs, not at all.”

“Then why were ye at the Chum Bucket?!” Mr Krabs yelled.

“I- I… I just wanted to ask Mr Plankton a question,” Squidward stammered.

“Oh? And what question be that? ‘Can I work for ye, Mr Plankton?’”

“No, that wasn’t it. You… You wouldn’t believe me if I told you what the question was.”

“Because ye went to ask him fer a job!” Mr Krabs slammed his claws on his desk, startling Squidward. “I oughtta make ye walk the plank right now!”

“Mr Krabs, please, I’m being honest here. I don’t ever want to work for Mr Plankton; he’s a dirty, conniving little sneak. I’d rather stay here and work for you.”

“Hmm…” Mr Krabs sat back, keeping his gaze on his employee. “Yer usually honest with me, and it sounds like ye really don’t like Plankton.”

“I don’t like him at all,” Squidward insisted. “He makes his employees force the customers to buy chum before they do anything, no matter if it’s to talk to Mr Plankton or leave the restaurant.”

Mr Krabs grew thoughtful. “Is that so…”

“Yes, it’s true.”

“Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Huh?”

“Er, ah, n- nothing.” Mr Krabs smiled. “Well, Mr Squidward, since ye gave me an idea to help bring in more money to the Krusty Krab, I’ll trust ye at yer word. Fer now. So what was this question ye asked Plankton, anyway?”

“Ah, w- well…” Squidward averted his gaze. He’d planned on asking his boss the next day at work, but he’d not planned to be spotted by Mr Krabs the minute he left the Chum Bucket. It was now or never, it would seem.

“Well?”

“Well…” Squidward returned his gaze to his boss. “Do you ever have the feeling that something is missing?”

“Missin’?” Mr Krabs raised an eyebrow. “Ye went to the Chum Bucket to ask _that_?”

“Yes.”

“What did Plankton say?”

“At first, he didn’t know what I was talking about. But after a little while, he realised there really was someone missing. He kept saying I was acting like someone but couldn’t figure out who.”

“Some _one_?”

“Yes.”

“I assume ye ain’t talkin’ about Jim, correct?”

“Right.”

Mr Krabs was thoughtful again. “Someone be missin’, eh… Any idea who they are?”

“No, sir. That’s why Sandy, Patrick and I are asking around town to see if anyone else has the same feeling.”

“What do ye mean?”

“I mean, we all feel as though someone is missing, someone who is a friend of ours. It’s only been the three of us, though, so we can’t imagine who this fourth person is. I asked Mr Plankton about it, and he seems to have the same feeling. Is it the same for you, sir?”

“No, but…” Mr Krabs was quiet for several long moments. Finally, he spoke in a lowered tone. “I usually don’t like talkin’ about stuff like this, but I think I can take ye into me confidence, Mr Squidward.” He leaned forward. “About a year after Jim left, things didn’t… feel right.”

“They didn’t?”

“No, it felt like… like we shouldn’t be havin’ this many problems findin’ a fry cook. That’s why I keep hirin’ ‘em whenever someone applies; one of ‘em should be doin’ the same kinda job Jim did, if not better. But I ain’t found ‘em yet. I don’t know who Jim’s replacement could be; I shoulda’ found ‘em years ago. But I ain’t found ‘em, so I keep the Help Wanted sign in me window.”

Squidward was speechless. Apparently, Mr Krabs not only had the same feeling as he and his friends, but he’d had the feeling much longer. On top of that, the missing person was to be Jim’s official replacement as the fry cook at the Krusty Krab, which meant…

“This person is supposed to be my co-worker?” Squidward’s question came out in a murmur.

“I don’t know for sure, laddie,” Mr Krabs replied, unaware of Squidward’s line of thought. “I just know we ain’t supposed to be down a fry cook this long. Somethin’ ain’t right about it, and it ain’t because of the Chum Bucket.”

Squidward was unable to respond. He still seemed to be the only one who thought this person was particularly important, but to find out they were his co-worker? How could someone that important be a fry cook? He was sure the person would be more distinguished – perhaps they were into the arts, or at least had a respectable job – especially if they wanted to keep good company with Squidward. He himself was into many distinguished hobbies, but he was just a cashier at the Krusty Krab. In a way, it would make sense someone quite close to him would be in a similar situation. It was a bit peculiar the person’s mannerisms seemed to be different – at least, according to Mr Plankton, they were – but it would be rather awkward to have someone who was essentially an exact replica of himself running around.

“Mr Squidward?”

He looked up at his boss. “Y- Yes, sir?”

“Ye think I’m crazy for sayin’ what I did, don’t ye?”

Squidward shook his head. “Not at all, sir. I believe you.”

“Ye do?”

“Yes. After all, that’s exactly what I was asking you about. It’s also what I asked Mr Plankton about. Something very strange is going on here, Mr Krabs, and my friends and I are trying to solve it so we can find this missing person and return them to Bikini Bottom.”

“I can only hope ye and yer friends are successful.” Mr Krabs sat back in his chair again. “Just make sure ye don’t let it cut into yer work time.”

“Yes, sir. May I go now?”

“Sure, sure.” Mr Krabs waved a claw dismissively. “I’ll see ye here first thing Monday mornin’.”

“I’ll be here, sir.” Squidward rose and left the office, then the Krusty Krab.

As soon as he stepped outside, he spotted Sandy and Patrick headed for the Chum Bucket. Briefly, he wondered why they’d go there voluntarily – even Sandy had previously voiced her dislike of chum – but he realised he’d not met up with them since finishing his business with Mr Plankton.

“Sandy!” he called out, waving. “Patrick!”

The two turned away from the restaurant and spotted their friend across the street. “Hey, there’s Squidward!” Sandy said to Patrick.

“Why’s he at the Krusty Krab?” Patrick wondered.

“We’ll find out when we ask ‘im.” Sandy led the way across the street.

When the trio was together again, Squidward was the first to speak up. “I can explain why I’m here,” he began.

“Yeah?” Sandy nodded at him. “You tell your story first, then Patrick ‘n I will tell ours.”

“Okay.” Squidward took a deep breath.


	3. Act III

“So we seem to have a few clues ‘bout this missin’ person,” Sandy said as she looked thoughtful. Each of the friends had just finished explaining what had happened when they’d split up earlier. They’d also relocated to Squidward’s house, where the octopus had made tea.

“We know the person is supposed to be a fry cook at the Krusty Krab,” Squidward added. “And they’re enrolled at the boating school, but they’ve failed the test numerous times. And they act differently than me but seem closest to me.”

“And Jellyfish Fields,” Patrick put in.

“Right.” Squidward glanced at him. “They have something to do with Jellyfish Fields as well.”

“Seems kinda random,” Sandy remarked.

“It does,” Squidward agreed. “But I had a feeling none of this was going to be easy, especially when we don’t even know who this missing person is.”

“It also seems like whenever we try to talk to someone ‘bout this person, they don’t know what we’re talkin’ about until they suddenly realise they _do_ know what we’re talkin’ about.” Sandy frowned thoughtfully.

“Perhaps if we talked to more people, we’d have more who’d know about the missing person,” Squidward suggested.

“Yeah, sorta like… like a collective memory,” Sandy replied.

“That’s it!” Squidward set down the teacup he’d been holding. “Maybe this person will return if we get more people to realise that he’s gone. The person could be—”

“Wait, hold it.” Sandy held up a hand. “He?”

Squidward froze. He’d spoken without thinking – an unusual thing for him to do – and he’d blurted out “he” when referring to the missing person. He looked at Sandy. “Do… Do you think this missing person is a ‘he’?”

Sandy shrugged. “It’s possible. They seem closest to ya anyway, so any new clues could still come from ya.”

Squidward lowered his gaze to his teacup on the coffee table before him. “This is still very bizarre,” he softly commented. “Why is this person close to _me_?”

“Who knows?” Sandy kept her own gaze on her friend.

“But I don’t let anyone get very close to me, Sandy. Er, no offence to you or Patrick, of course. I- I just… I don’t understand why this person is so close to me.”

Sandy placed a hand on Squidward’s shoulder. She knew he hated a lot of physical contact, but she also knew he needed reassurance. “It’s entirely possible the reason why ya ain’t let others get close to ya is because of this person. He must’ve been real close to ya, and when he went missin’, subconsciously y’all pushed everyone away.”

“How close could he have been, to have me do such a thing?”

Sandy hesitated. She’d previously thought on the missing person’s relationship to Squidward, and after finding out no one else thought the person was close to them, there was only one logical conclusion. “Well…” she carefully began.

Squidward didn’t look up. “Well?”

“Goin’ off what we know, which I admit ain’t much right now, it’s entirely possible this missin’ person is more than just a friend to ya.”

Squidward’s head shot up and he stared at his land-dwelling friend. “M… More than a friend?”

“Yeah.” Sandy withdrew her hand. “It’s probably scary to think about, but there’s a good chance he’s your boyfriend.”

Squidward slowly, mechanically returned his gaze to his teacup. His heart pounded in his chest. He had two friends, but he never let anyone get very close to him. He never truly understood why – Sandy and Patrick were good people who had his best interests in mind – but there was still that barrier he’d created between himself and everyone else he knew. Now there was a possibility the reason for that barrier creation was because he really had someone very, very close to him. With the disappearance of that person, Squidward had pushed everyone away. Only when the person was with him again could he let others get closer to him.

But who in the world was this person?

He backtracked his thoughts. Something didn’t seem right.

If this person had been in his life in the past, then went missing, his actions of pushing everyone away made sense. However, he and anyone he’d spoken to had no memories of the person until he was mentioned. He also knew, based on what Mr Krabs had said, the person was supposed to be Jim’s official replacement. He clearly recalled all the fry cooks they’d had since Jim’s departure, and knew none of them made Krabby Patties the same way. None of them had the spirit for the job, either.

That meant this person didn’t exist.

So how could someone who never existed be his boyfriend?

He shook his head. “No… none of this adds up.”

“What do ya mean?” Sandy asked.

Squidward relayed his thoughts, basing the argument on what Mr Krabs had told him. “In all five years since Jim’s resignation,” he concluded, “we’ve never had a fry cook who could even begin to compare to the skill and drive Jim had. Going off that alone, this person doesn’t even exist.”

“I’ll give ya that,” Sandy agreed, “but the fact still remains that we all know someone _is_ supposed to exist. He’s the fry cook at the Krusty Krab, he goes to boatin’ school, is involved with Jellyfish Fields somehow, and is probably your boyfriend.”

“But where is he?” Squidward pointed out. “Why has he never existed, yet we all seem to think he does exist?”

“It’s kinda a complicated thing,” Sandy replied. “It ends up soundin’ like science fiction, but it’s ‘bout the best thing I can come up with.”

“What’s that?”

“This fella _does_ exist, just in our memories.” She tapped the side of her air helmet. “Somehow his… essence, if ya will, has been spread across lotsa Bikini Bottomites. If we can get enough folks to remember him, maybe he’ll come into physical existence ‘n everythin’ will be the way it should be.”

Squidward gaped at his friend. Her explanation really did sound like a sci-fi story… and a bad one at that. “I can’t believe this.” He shook his head again before gathering his teacups and placing them on a tray with a teapot. “The more we look into it, the more absurd it becomes.”

“But—” Sandy tried to protest.

“I’m done with this.” Squidward stood and picked up the tray. “None of it makes any sense, and the best a scientist – a _scientist_ – can come up with is a horrible science fiction story. I thought you were smarter than that, Sandy.”

“Squidward, listen to me.” Sandy rose, standing beside her friend. “And put down that tray.” After Squidward obeyed, she continued. “This whole thing is far beyond anythin’ I know as a scientist. It ain’t makin’ much sense to me, either, but we’re gettin’ answers when we start thinkin’ outside the box and step into the bizarre. Science can only answer so much, Squidward; even y’all should know that. It takes a leap of faith to go outside of that to get answers, ‘n sometimes the bizarre becomes the accepted truth… and a scientific fact. What do ya think happened when, many years ago, a fella came up with the idea of gravity? Ain’t no one believed him much till he proved it, ‘n now it’s science. This might be somethin’ in the same vein, and we ain’t gonna know till we figure it out ‘n get this mystery fella back.”

Squidward let out a long sigh. “I just… I just don’t like any of it,” he admitted. “It’s all too strange for my liking, especially if the person really is my boyfriend. Wouldn’t I remember such a thing?”

“Who knows?” Sandy shrugged. “But let’s not worry about that right now. We need to focus on findin’ out more about this fella, ‘n how we can bring him back. Y’all can ask him about your relationship once he comes back, but try to put it outta your mind for now, alright?”

“Al… Alright.”

“Great!” Sandy grinned. “Tomorrow, we’re gonna go to Goo Lagoon ‘n start askin’ around to get more answers.”

“I can’t.”

Sandy blinked. “Why not?”

“I have to work, remember?”

“Oh, right. Do ya think you could ask some of the regulars about it?”

It was Squidward’s turn to shrug. “We don’t really have regulars anymore; business has been slow for weeks. I’ll see what I can do about asking the few who come in, though.”

“Good.” Sandy put her arm around Squidward’s shoulders; the latter flinched but didn’t push her away. “We’re gonna take this one step at a time, one day at a time, until we get all our answers. _And_ we’re still gonna celebrate your birthday on Tuesday, don’tcha worry none.”

“Uh… right.”

“Well, I’d better get goin’.” Sandy stepped away from Squidward and shoved Patrick, who’d fallen asleep on a recliner. “C’mon, Patrick, we needa leave.”

“Whuh?” Patrick sat up.

Sandy grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet. “Come _on_ , Pat.” She dragged him towards the front door. “We’ll see ya after work tomorrow, Squidward,” she called over her shoulder as she and Patrick left.

Squidward stayed quiet until he saw the front door close, leaving him alone. He sank back onto the couch, hearing his conversation with Sandy in his mind again and again. Much as he wanted to forget about what he’d been told, he couldn’t easily dismiss his friend’s words. Was it really possible for the missing person to be his boyfriend? Who in the world would he even want to hold so close to his heart?

His vision blurred, and he blinked away the tears. There was one place he could go to help calm himself and clear his mind.

Leaving the tea set on the coffee table, he went to the closet and grabbed a pair of gloves, a trowel and a watering can.

* * *

After work the next day, Squidward watched the newest fry cook leaving the restaurant. This fish was tan in colour and wore a red shirt but didn’t elicit any particular emotion from the cashier. Squidward knew this fish wasn’t the missing person, despite the fish’s quick learning. There was no telling how long this one would stay.

“Mr Squidward!”

He started in surprise, then turned to his boss, who emerged from the kitchen. “Y- Yes, sir?”

Mr Krabs watched the front door, which was swinging closed after the newest employee had left. “Did ye get the chance to find out more about the missin’ person?” he asked.

“I’ve been here all day, Mr Krabs, how could I possibly find out anything?”

“Ye had last night,” Mr Krabs pointed out, “as well as the time before ye came here.”

Squidward sighed. “All we’ve figured out is that no one seems to know who we’re talking about when we ask them, but after a minute or two, they realise they do know someone is missing. Sandy thinks it’s because the person’s essence is scattered across everyone’s memories; the more people we can get to remember, the more likely the person will be able to return.”

“That sounds a bit strange,” Mr Krabs remarked, “but if it’ll get me a fry cook like Jim, then I’ll go along with it.”

“I also asked a few customers about it today,” Squidward added, “and they seemed to have the same response as others we’ve talked to about it.”

“Really?” Mr Krabs looked thoughtful. “So yer friend’s theory is correct?”

“So it would seem.”

“Then keep askin’ away, Mr Squidward. The sooner we get me fry cook, the better.”

“Yes, sir.” Squidward stepped out of the register boat. “I’ll also let you know if we find out anything else.”

“Good lad.” Mr Krabs smiled at him. “See ye in the mornin’, Mr Squidward.”

“Goodnight, Mr Krabs.”

As soon as he set foot outside the Krusty Krab, Squidward realised something felt… different. He wasn’t sure what it was, but perhaps…

“Hey, Squidward!”

He gazed into the distance and spotted Sandy running towards him. She waved her arms as she approached. It was unusual for Sandy to meet with him after work, but she had promised as such the previous day. He could only hope she had more answers for him with her outing to Goo Lagoon.

“Did you find out anything today?” he asked once she was close enough.

Sandy took a moment to catch her breath. “It ain’t much, but it was like yesterday,” she reported. “Anyone we asked didn’t know what we meant right away, but after a minute or two, they realised someone was missin’. What about you?”

“We didn’t have a lot of customers, but I asked some of them and got the same result. Do you think this will keep working until everyone remembers?”

“I ain’t sure,” Sandy admitted, “but it seems to be workin’ so far. Thankfully, Bikini Bottom’s a small town so there ain’t a lotta folks to ask.”

“That’s true,” Squidward agreed, “but we have a few problems if we’re going to ask everyone. One, I’m limited to only customers six days a week. Two, we can’t entirely rely on Patrick to ask a large number of people every day, since he’ll forget. Three, although Bikini Bottom is small, there are still a lot of people we’ll have to ask.”

“And four,” Sandy added, “we don’t know how long we’ll be able to keep this up. Havin’ people remember may only last a few days, or a week or two. We don’t know, and we can’t rely on ‘em rememberin’ forever.”

Squidward nodded. “This is something that’ll have to be resolved quickly, and I don’t think just getting a handful of people to remember will cut it.”

“What do ya suggest we do?”

“We seemed to make better progress when we learnt significant things about the person, like when we found out he attends boating school.”

“So if we figure out more things about ‘im, ya think it’ll bring ‘im back faster?”

“Probably. It’s better than continually asking people about it, anyway.”

“Y’all gotta point,” Sandy conceded. “I was gettin’ some strange looks at Goo Lagoon after a while of askin’ around. It didn’t really feel like I was gettin’ anywhere, either.”

“Then we need to find more major clues about him.” Squidward started walking away from the Krusty Krab, with Sandy keeping pace alongside him. “We know about his job and lack of a driver’s licence, and he’s involved with Jellyfish Fields somehow.”

“Do ya think we might find somethin’ if we go there?” Sandy suggested.

“We might; it doesn’t hurt to check, anyway.”

“Since it’s late, we should save it for tomorrow. Are ya okay with that?”

“Why would you—” Squidward stopped himself, realising why she’d asked. “Oh, that. It really doesn’t matter to me; I don’t like making a big deal about my birthday. Besides, I’d rather we solve this mystery first.”

“This is just hypothetically speakin’, but what if this fella’s really your boyfriend?”

“I… I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’ve been trying not to think about it too much, since that bit of information’s purely a guess.”

Sandy was quiet as she kept walking.

“Okay, so I’ve thought about it a lot,” Squidward admitted. “It’s like you said, it’s a scary thought. I never thought I’d have someone so close to me, especially to consider them as more than a friend.”

“Do ya still feel like this missin’ fella’s important?”

“Yes, very much so. I don’t know why he feels so important, and I don’t know if he’s my boyfriend, but he _is_ a very important person in my life… and we need him back. _I_ need him back.”

“Sounds like a boyfriend to me,” Sandy pointed out.

Squidward slowed his steps before coming to a stop. Sandy also stopped a few paces away and turned to face him. “You’re probably right,” Squidward conceded. “It’s still hard to wrap my mind around, but there really isn’t any other way to look at it, is there?”

Sandy shook her head but smiled at her friend. “Afraid not. After all, you’re the only one with that kinda feelin’; the rest of us just know he’s missin’ and that he’s a friend of ours.”

Squidward rubbed his arm absently. “But… But I…”

“Don’t let it get to ya, Squidward. You’ll know for sure when we figure out who’s missin’ and bring ‘im back to Bikini Bottom. Y’all will have all the time in the world to talk about the relationship between the two of ya then.”

“Y- Yeah… I’m going to go home now and try to get my mind off it for a little while.”

“Sounds good.” Sandy grinned. “I’ll go with ya since I’ve been meanin’ to check on Patrick. I ain’t seen him in several hours.”

Squidward resumed his walk. “He probably fell asleep, as usual.”

Sandy laughed. “Yeah, that guy’s ‘bout as useful as a steerin’ wheel on a goat.”

“A… what?”

“He’s lazy.” Sandy pointed to the two houses. “Look, we’re almost there.”

Squidward squinted in the dying light. “Is that Patrick nearby my garden?”

“Kinda looks like it, don’t it?”

“What’s he doing there?” Squidward broke into a run, Sandy following close behind. He knew his friends usually left his garden alone, but he didn’t trust Patrick to be left alone there.

When the two reached Patrick, Squidward doubled over, gasping for breath. Sandy didn’t take as long to recover, so she was the first to ask, “What’re ya doin’ here, Patrick?”

Patrick, who’d stayed still the entire time, blinked a few times before looking around. “I dunno, I was waiting for someone… I think.” He scratched his head.

“You ‘think’?” Squidward straightened up. “Who in the world would you be waiting for this late in the day? And why would you meet them by my garden?”

Patrick shrugged. “I just got this feeling that I should.”

Squidward froze. “F… Feeling…” His gaze moved upwards, far above his garden, above Patrick’s head. “No…” he murmured.

“What is it?” Sandy asked.

Squidward pointed in the direction he was looking: the evening sky was visible, and a few stars had started twinkling in the sky. “It… It’s not right…”

“What ain’t right?” Sandy followed his gaze but only saw the sky.

“The… person…” Squidward’s words were forced. “He… He…”

Patrick’s eyes widened. “He lives here!” he shouted, startling his friends.

“The missin’ person _lives_ here?” Sandy looked back down, her gaze now on the plants and flowers before her. She heard the trickling of the fountain a short distance away. “He lives in Squidward’s garden?”

“No, he…” Squidward took a step backwards, realising his garden was in the shape of a perfect circle, as it always had been. “There’s a house here, and he lives in it.”

Sandy regarded Squidward for a moment, then returned her gaze to the garden. “Ya know, I always wondered why y’all had your garden in a circular shape,” she commented softly. “Is the person’s house in the shape of a circle?”

“I think so,” Squidward answered. Another thought struck him: if the missing person was his boyfriend, it meant he dated his next-door neighbour. It also meant he dated his co-worker.

“Neighbour…” he muttered thoughtfully.

“Come again?” Sandy looked at him again.

“Neighbour,” Squidward repeated, a bit louder. “And co-worker… I… I feel like I’m close to remembering who he is, but… but…” He shook his head in frustration.

“That means we’re almost there,” Sandy said. “If at least one of us can remember who he is, I figure the rest of us will remember, too. It stands to reason y’all would be the one to remember first, Squidward, since he’s closest to ya.”

“Yes, but… there’s still something keeping me from completely remembering.” He shook his head again. “I just wish I could remember who he is.”

“Well, don’t try to wrack your mind over it right now. It’s late, and we all need to get home ‘n get some rest.” Sandy placed her hand on Squidward’s shoulder, just briefly, then moved her hand away. “Tomorrow, we’ll go to Jellyfish Fields ‘n hopefully solve this mystery once ‘n for all.”

“But I have work tomorrow,” Squidward pointed out.

“Y’all are gonna go to work ‘n miss a chance to finally remember who your boyfriend is?” Sandy gaped at him.

Squidward lowered his gaze. “I don’t want to miss that chance, but Mr Krabs won’t be happy about me showing up late.”

“I think he’ll overlook your tardiness if ya show up with the fry cook he’s been searchin’ for.”

“Good point.” Squidward managed a small smile as he looked back up at his friend. “I’ll see you and Patrick in the morning.”

“G’night, Squidward.”


	4. Act IV

His alarm clock rang, the racket rousing him out of his sleep. He pressed the button to silence the alarm before sitting up in bed and yawning. As he climbed out of bed, he glanced at the window, noticing the early morning light.

It was time.

Today was the day.

He felt a pang in his chest at the realisation. He’d finally discover who the missing person was, the one who acted differently from him, worked at the Krusty Krab as the fry cook, lived next door to him, was involved with Jellyfish Fields and was friends with Sandy and Patrick.

And who was his boyfriend.

He tried to keep his mounting anxiety down as he showered and dressed for the day. He then headed into the kitchen to prepare a pot of coffee. As the aroma of roasting beans filled the kitchen, he felt sick to his stomach. He knew it was because of his anxiety, but he was afraid to eat anything since it’d probably come back up. However, he knew it would be a bad idea to skip breakfast, so he grabbed a pastry from the cupboard. Once the coffee finished brewing, he prepared a cup for himself and tried to take a drink before eating the pastry.

After finishing his breakfast, he glanced at the end table near the front door. His Krusty Krab hat rested on the table, and he debated whether he should take it with him. He eventually decided against it, certain he’d return to his house before going to work. Jellyfish Fields was within walking distance and in a different direction from work. There’d be time to go inside his house to grab his hat before reporting to work.

He pushed open the front door and stepped outside. Everything seemed normal, but he still felt anxious. He’d only been having this dilemma for a few days, yet it felt like ages, and he knew he’d finally learn the identity of the missing person today.

“Hey, Squidward!”

He turned to his right and spotted Patrick leaving his rock. “You’re up early,” he remarked.

“I didn’t want to miss this for anything in the world.” Patrick crossed his yard as he approached.

“You mean, you remember what we’ve been doing the past few days?”

“Uh-huh.” Patrick nodded. “I wanna know who our new friend is.” He paused, glancing around. “Actually, it kinda feels like he’s supposed to be my best friend.”

Squidward’s eyes widened. “R- Really? Does he feel like he’s very important to you?”

“I dunno, but I’m sure he’s my best friend. I’ve never had a best friend before, so I wanna see who he is.”

Squidward didn’t answer. If Patrick believed this person was his best friend, was it possible that was all he was to Squidward, too? If that was the case, why did it feel like the missing person was so important to him? A best friend couldn’t feel _that_ important… could they?

“Hey, there’s Sandy!” Patrick pointed down the street.

Squidward watched as the squirrel approached. He still couldn’t shake the feeling the missing person meant more to him than Patrick’s supposed relationship. Sandy was likely the correct one in this instance since he was the only one getting worked up about the whole thing. Yes, that was it. The person _had_ to be more than a friend to him, or a best friend… much, much more.

He knew he couldn’t deny it any longer.

The missing person was his boyfriend, he just knew it.

“Hiya, boys!” Sandy greeted when she was close enough. “Ready to go to Jellyfish Fields?”

“Yep!” Patrick smiled.

Squidward took a deep breath, trying to calm his thoughts as well as his pulse. “Yes, I’m ready,” he replied.

_I’m ready…_

The words echoed in his mind as the trio began their walk. Why did that simple sentence sound so familiar?

“Do ya think we’ll see the missin’ fella today?” Sandy asked, breaking the silence.

“I think so,” Patrick replied. “I can’t wait to meet my best friend.”

“Best friend?” She gave him a sideways glance.

“Yeah, I’m sure this person is my best friend.”

Sandy turned her gaze to Squidward, who walked on her other side. “What do ya think, Squidward? Maybe this fella is your best friend, too, and we’ve been over-thinkin’ it.”

“No.” Squidward shook his head. “I’m sure your previous assumption was correct.”

“Sounds like you’ve accepted it, huh?”

“I’m sure of it. It makes sense he’s the reason why I’ve not let anyone get close to me; maybe after he comes back, things will be different… with me, I mean.”

“Hm, that’s entirely possible. I am curious to see who you’ve fallen in love with.”

_Love._

The word sent another pang through his heart. Of course, if he were dating this person, he’d have to be in love with him. It almost felt like a foreign concept, though it was yet another truth he needed to face before the missing person showed up.

Sandy continued to make conversation here and there during the walk, but Squidward hardly paid attention. He barely knew where his feet were taking him until he spotted the soft green grass of Jellyfish Fields. Once the grass was before him, he stopped.

“Here we are,” Sandy announced, gazing out at the vast fields before her.

“Jellyfish Fields,” Patrick said.

“And the place we should be meetin’ the person we’ve been searchin’ for these past several days.” She took a few steps forward, then realised only Patrick had accompanied her. She turned around and saw her other friend hovering at the edge of the field. “Whatcha waitin’ for, Squidward?”

Squidward took several deep breaths to calm his nerves. Apparently, he was the only one who wasn’t excited to find out the identity of the missing person; in fact, he still felt anxious and nauseous.

Sandy returned to Squidward’s side. “You okay?”

He slowly shook his head. “No, I’m not,” he murmured.

Sandy gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m sure you’re nervous, since you’re about to meet your boyfriend, but think of it this way. This fella is the only one ya hold near and dear to ya, who means everythin’ to ya. Don’tcha wanna see who could do such a thing to ya?”

“W- Well, I _am_ rather curious,” Squidward softly admitted.

“Then c’mon.” Sandy gestured as she started walking. “The only way we’re gonna find out is to head into Jellyfish Fields ‘n look for answers.”

Squidward swallowed, then took a hesitant step forward.

Nothing.

He took a few more steps forward.

Still nothing.

He began walking, gazing about him as he caught up to his friends. The only things there aside from the three of them were the jellyfish. They buzzed about, not bothering anyone as they drifted through the water. Every so often, a gentle breeze would rustle through the grass, but all was quiet as the trio continued walking.

“Y’all see anythin’?” Sandy asked after a few minutes.

“Just the jellyfish,” Patrick replied. “This is boring; where’s my best friend?”

“Calm down, Pat,” Sandy said. “We didn’t expect to find anythin’ right away. This place is right big, and anythin’ can happen. We just needa’ be patient.”

Patrick suddenly took off running, coming to a stop at the top of a small hill. “I just remembered!” he shouted. “We catch the jellyfish!”

“Catch?” Squidward raised an eyebrow. “That’s the stupidest… thing…” He trailed off, his eyes widening.

“What’s the matter, Squidward?” Sandy asked.

“I… I remember, too.” He looked past Sandy at Patrick, who was waving his arms around at the jellyfish. “He has a net, and he uses it to catch the jellyfish.”

Sandy gasped. “And he lets ‘em go… I’m rememberin’ now, too. But Patrick ain’t alone when he does that, is he?”

“No, he’s accompanied by… by…”

“The missin’ person. But I still can’t quite remember who the person is.”

Squidward rubbed his temples, a look of concentration on his face. “It… It’s coming to me…”

Patrick stopped waving his arms around. “Hey… isn’t my best friend named S… S…”

At the same time, all three stared at each other and said the same thing.

“Spongebob Squarepants!”

“That’s my best friend!” Patrick declared as he dashed back to the others. “Spongebob’s my best friend! I remember now!”

Sandy nodded. “I remember, too. He was the first critter to ever visit me when I moved into my treedome.”

Squidward was silent.

Sandy took notice and turned to him. “Squidward? Everythin' okay?”

At that moment, they heard familiar footsteps, and they turned to see a little yellow sea sponge walk around from behind a nearby stone formation. “Spongebob!” Patrick ran to him and gave him a big hug. “Where’d ya go, buddy?”

Spongebob waited until Patrick set him back on the ground before answering. “It’s kind of hard to explain,” he replied.

“What do ya mean?” Sandy tilted her head.

“Several days ago, I ran into the Flying Dutchman,” Spongebob began. “He said he needed to do something in order to gain entrance to a ghost club he wanted to join. When I asked what it was, he said he needed to drastically change the life of a living person, and he’d chosen me. So he decided to show me what life would’ve been like here in Bikini Bottom without me.”

Sandy looked thoughtful. “Is that why everythin’ seemed so… different?”

Spongebob nodded. “If I never moved into my pineapple house, I’d have never gotten my job at the Krusty Krab. And now I see what would’ve happened if I didn’t take the job. Sure was strange seeing Plankton so successful.”

“Wait, ya mean… ya saw everythin’ that happened?”

Again, Spongebob nodded. “I know I wasn’t really _here_ ,” he used his fingers to make air quotes, “but I watched everything with the Flying Dutchman.”

“So then ya…” Sandy trailed off, realising a certain someone had been very quiet for a long time. “Ya saw everythin’ that happened with Squidward?”

“Er… well, yes.” Spongebob fidgeted.

Sandy finally turned back to Squidward, who she also remembered wasn’t as close of a friend as they were just minutes ago. The octopus’ expression was unreadable.

“Squidward?” She asked hesitantly.

He tried to open his mouth to speak but was unable to move. All he saw was the sea sponge standing several feet away, watching him for any sign of a reaction. Ever since the trio had remembered the name of the missing person, the outer fringes of his memory of the past handful of days had started disappearing. He was sure it was because his mind was re-adjusting to the correct history, where Spongebob was his next-door neighbour and co-worker. There was no flower garden beside the moai house, it was a pineapple house where Spongebob lived with his pet snail. The Krusty Krab wasn’t a failure after Jim’s departure; several years after the renowned fry cook had quit, Spongebob had taken the position and kept the fast food restaurant afloat with his skills and passion for making Krabby Patties. Plankton wasn’t a success by any measure; he resorted to stealing the Krabby Patty secret formula any chance he could get.

Squidward wasn’t friends with Sandy or Patrick; he was never close to anyone in Bikini Bottom. The person who he tried to distance himself from the most, who’d brought him nothing but grief and aggravation on a daily basis, was none other than the one who had been missing the last five days.

And was the one who he’d thought was very, very important to him.

The one who Squidward had assumed was his boyfriend.

Spongebob took a hesitant step towards him. “Squidward?” His voice was uncharacteristically soft.

Silence.

He took another step. “Um, if I may say something…”

Still silent.

“I didn’t know what kind of effect this whole thing would have,” Spongebob carefully began, his tone still quiet. “And I’ll admit I definitely didn’t think it would have affected you in the way it had. I had no idea you and Sandy would come to that conclusion, either.” He tossed a glance at his friend, who gave him an apologetic look. “If you’d like, we can forget the whole thing and just go back to the way things were before. I don’t mind if that’s what you want to do.”

Squidward took a deep breath. “Why…”

“Why?” Spongebob gave him a confused look.

“Why did it have to be you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why was the very important person who was missing for so long… why was it you?”

Spongebob blinked. “I… I thought I explained why it was me.”

“No, I…” Squidward shook his head.

“Oh! I guess you’re wondering why… erm…” Spongebob dug the toe of his shoe into the grass, his cheeks colouring.

“Why ya were assumed to be Squidward’s boyfriend,” Sandy spoke up.

“Y- Yeah, that.” Spongebob nodded to his land-dwelling friend. “It’s a shock to me, too. But like I said, I’m willing to forget the whole thing.”

Sandy’s gaze travelled between the two; Spongebob surprisingly looked embarrassed and uncomfortable, and Squidward’s expression was still unreadable. She was certain he was still in shock over the discovery of the missing person, especially with the conclusion they’d reached about him. She had to admit it was a big surprise, too, considering the relationship they’d already had. Whilst Spongebob greatly admired his next-door neighbour and co-worker, Squidward made no effort to disguise his hatred of the little sponge, despite the latter’s continual good intentions.

The silence stretched on.

“Alright, fellas,” Sandy spoke up again. “We need to settle this thing. I know it’s a surprise to both y’all – I’m surprised, too – but we can’t just spend all day standin’ around.” She put a hand on Spongebob’s head. “Now, ya said it’s okay to forget the whole thing, but are ya _really_ okay with that?”

Spongebob had kept his gaze on his friend as she spoke, but at her question, he looked away. “Um… yes,” he mumbled. He felt Sandy’s gaze boring into him. “O- Okay, I’ll tell the truth.” He glanced at Squidward for a moment before quickly averting his gaze. “…No.”

“Why’s that?” Sandy prompted.

“W- Well… after you and Squidward talked about it, and thought I was more than just a friend to Squidward, I had time to think about it. And, well… I… I realised I liked the idea.”

Sandy nodded, then rested her other hand on Squidward’s shoulder. The latter flinched but kept quiet. “Now, Squidward, ya ain’t said much since ya realised it was Spongebob who was missin’. But I remember what we’d talked about before, ‘n even when I asked ya if ya thought the missin’ person might’ve been your best friend ‘n ya said no, you were _sure_ he was your boyfriend. Now that ya know it’s Spongebob, you’ve been quiet. Don’tcha think it’s at least somethin’ to consider, since ya were so certain he was your boyfriend? He felt like he was someone real important to ya, regardless.”

Squidward mulled over Sandy’s words, as well as everything he’d thought and said the past several days. Most of his memory had been replaced with the correct line of events, but he still clearly recalled going on the search with Sandy and Patrick. He remembered when he spoke to Plankton at the Chum Bucket, as well as the conversation with Mr Krabs. No matter who started to remember a person who wasn’t there, he was the only one who thought the person was of very high importance. Like Sandy had just said, even when she’d asked if he thought this person was just a best friend, he’d asserted it wasn’t true and insisted the person was his boyfriend.

Now, his gaze fell on the yellow sponge, who was intentionally not looking at him. After a moment, Spongebob’s gaze travelled from the grass at his feet up to the octopus who kept his own gaze on him. He knew Spongebob had nothing but his best interests in mind, no matter how annoying he might have acted around him in the past.

The past…

It would be incredibly difficult to do, but after everything he’d been through the past several days, he felt as though he should put the past in the past, where it belonged. Ever since he’d realised someone was missing, he’d been going off his feelings and instincts, and now those same feelings were telling him to leave the past behind and head into a new future. He knew he also couldn’t come up with a counterargument to refuse what he’d essentially already decided two days ago.

He took a long, deep breath, then slowly let it out.

There was no turning back.

“Well, Squidward?” Sandy asked.

Squidward kept his gaze on the little sponge before him. The latter had not moved his gaze away, either.

“I… I’ll do it.”

Spongebob’s eyes widened. “Wh… What…?”

“There’s no sense in considering it,” Squidward explained, “when I’d already said… you know, what I’d said.”

“And what didja say?” Sandy withdrew her hands, already knowing the answer.

“That… That…” He swallowed, his gaze still locked with the blue eyes watching him. He could see the stirrings of a new emotion within those depths, one he never thought he’d see, much less directed at him.

“That…?” Sandy nudged him.

“That… Spongebob is my boyfriend.”

“You mean it?” Spongebob asked, smiling.

“Yes, I—”

“Yaaaay!” Spongebob flung himself into Squidward’s arms. “That makes me so happy, Squidward.”

He tried not to squirm away, knowing all Spongebob was doing was showing his gratitude and affection. After a moment, he realised he didn’t mind the arms around him, and he slowly wrapped his arms around Spongebob. Somehow it felt… right.

“There, that ain’t so bad, is it?” Sandy smiled at the two.

Squidward, who had kept his gaze on Spongebob, looked up at Sandy. “By the way, what happened to the Flying Dutchman? I have a few questions for him.”

“Arr, here I be!”

The voice was accompanied by a loud clap of thunder. The skies darkened as a translucent ghost descended upon the group. Spongebob let go of Squidward, who followed suit, but stayed beside him as the Dutchman finished his entrance.

The Flying Dutchman regarded the four standing before him. “What’s all this I be hearin’ of some questions?”

“I had some,” Squidward said, raising a hand.

“Ye only get one.”

“What?! You caused all this mess,” Squidward spread his arms, indicating the group, “and I only get to ask _one_ question?”

“Ugh, fine.” The Dutchman rolled his eyes, looking bored. “Ask as many as ye want. Yer just about as bad as the square one.”

Squidward ignored the last statement as he said, “Why did you do this, anyway? Messing up everyone’s memories and making Spongebob disappear for five days.”

“I thought ye already got that answer.”

“So it really was just to gain entrance to a club?”

The Dutchman shrugged. “They have strange requirements, what can I say?”

“Why did you choose Spongebob?”

“Because he was the best candidate. Spongebob’s life is full of…” he shuddered, “ _ugh_ , goodness and happiness, I figured he could stand some drastic changes in his life. Besides, what’re ye complainin’ fer? Ye got a little _gift_ out of the deal.” He nodded in Spongebob’s direction.

Squidward felt his face growing warm. “W- Wait, you… you heard all that?”

“Yep.” The Dutchman nodded. “I was with Spongebob the entire time, and whilst he was out here, tellin’ ye everythin’, I was listenin’ to that as well.” He gave a sly grin. “So I know all about ye thinkin’ he’s more than a friend, and I know ye both agreed to it as well.”

“W- Well…” Squidward tried to forget about the last bit of the Dutchman’s statement. “If you were showing Spongebob a Bikini Bottom without him, why did we start remembering him?”

“Simple. I just be a ghost; doin’ what I did was never supposed to be perfect. Those closest to Spongebob would start rememberin’ him, and eventually he was completely remembered. It wasn’t meant to last long, anyway.”

Spongebob decided to speak up. “So do you think you’ll get into the club after this?”

“What club?”

“The one you’d mentioned wanting to join? The one you did all of this for?”

“Oh, that.” The Dutchman put his hands behind his back. “Actually… I lied. There be no such club.”

Spongebob’s eyes widened again. “Wh- What?”

“Besides, if there ever was a club like that, I’d never join. I enjoy bein’ me own ghost, doin’ me own thing.”

“Then… why did ya do all this?” Sandy asked.

“I just like messin’ with ye. Bwa ha ha ha ha ha!” The Dutchman continued laughing as he faded away, and the skies lightened to its normal daytime colour.

Patrick, who’d been quiet the entire time, blinked a few times. “Well, I’m gonna go back to bed. See ya later, Spongebob.”

“R- Right, see you.” Spongebob watched as his best friend headed away from Jellyfish Fields before turning to Sandy. “What’re you going to do, Sandy?”

The squirrel looked thoughtful. “That was a right mean thing of the Dutchman to do,” she replied, “but it sure got me thinkin’. I never figured a ghost could do what he did, so I’m gonna conduct some research into the matter.”

“Do you have a conference to attend in Texas, like you’d mentioned before?”

“Naw, that was somethin’ that was put in my mind. I think it was to get me to leave, but I couldn’t, not with that big mystery hangin’ over our heads. I’ll talk to ya later, Spongebob.”

“Sure thing.” Again, he watched as his friend left.

Before he knew it, he was alone in Jellyfish Fields with the octopus who’d just agreed to be his boyfriend only minutes ago. The realisation sent heat rising in his cheeks as he turned towards him.

Squidward’s gaze was on the sky, where the Dutchman had floated before them.

“Um, Squidward…”

“Yes?” He didn’t move.

“I was wondering… is today really your birthday?”

“Huh?” Squidward finally tore his gaze from the sky and looked down at him.

“When you, Sandy and Patrick were talking on Friday, you’d mentioned your birthday was on Tuesday. That’s today. Is that the truth, or is it like with Sandy not actually having a conference to attend?”

Squidward was quiet again for several long moments.

“Is it?”

He averted his gaze. “Yes.”

Spongebob stepped closer to him and took hold of his hands. He seldom got the chance to do such a thing in the past, but he knew things were different now.

Everything was different now.

“This is quite a birthday then, isn’t it?”

“Erm… y- yes.”

Spongebob’s voice softened. “You know… after work, we can go somewhere nice for a birthday dinner, and we can get a cake for you. Then we can go shopping for a nice gift for you.”

Squidward returned his gaze to Spongebob. “R… Really?”

The sea sponge nodded. “I want this day to be the best and most memorable birthday ever for you, Squidward. Although the Flying Dutchman pulled a mean prank on all of us, we did get something good out of it.”

“We… We did, didn’t we?”

“Mm-hmm, and I’d like to give you your first gift right now, if I may.”

Squidward was taken aback. “Wh- What’s the first gift?”

“This.” Spongebob let go of his hands and grasped his shoulders. He pulled Squidward down closer to him, then brought their lips together.

Squidward was caught off-guard with the sudden movement but didn’t try to pull away. It felt strange at first, but when he felt the tenderness and love in Spongebob’s kiss, the strange sensation vanished. He closed his eyes as he wrapped his arms around the sea sponge again, knowing whilst holding him close felt right, sharing a kiss with him felt incredibly good.

He’d finally found the very important thing he’d been missing for five days.


End file.
